


Glistening Dew and Lace

by Dameceles



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Body Worship, Clothed Sex, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Femdom, Hand Jobs, Kink Negotiation, Lingerie, Married Couple, Orgasm Delay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Self-Denial, Shameless Smut, Stockings, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, men wearing lingerie, self-restraint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 08:46:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15725976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dameceles/pseuds/Dameceles
Summary: “You're always eager to look at me, Marx, but I haven't been able to often return the favor.” That comment stuck with him and niggled. Hinoka had put his needs first in their bedroom play, for far too long. So, the next evening they’d had time alone together, Marx had insisted that the time and activities were for her to determine.





	Glistening Dew and Lace

**Author's Note:**

> Last year for Marx’s birthday I uploaded some [autumn-aged, throne sex](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12516848). Guess this is the flipside for Hinoka’s bday, gettin' down and dirty with male lingerie fun. 
> 
> I've had this on the back-burner since 2015, oof. Here's some [art I had commissioned](http://damoselcastel.tumblr.com/post/143772070201/xehanortofficial-commission-for-damoselcastel) while writing this, along with [newer art](http://damoselcastel.tumblr.com/post/178153394570/maybelsart-a-pin-up-hinoka-commission-for).

 

“You're always eager to look at me, Marx, but I haven't been able to often return the favor.”

That was how this entire affair began, an off-comment from his wife that stuck with him and niggled. Hinoka had put his needs first in their bedroom play, for far too long. So, the next evening they’d had time alone together, he’d insisted that the time and activities were for his wife to determine. Marx never would’ve guessed to where it’d lead.

“Since I'm in charge would you be willing to wear this wedding gift?" Hinoka dangled a black pair of glissenet and lace smallclothes from her fingertips, the cut meant fit a masculine rather than feminine bottom. She set the article down on the bed and then held up a negligee of the same materials cut for wide shoulders and a flat chest.

Marx couldn’t repress a grimace. "I thought you’d found those completely ridiculous?"

"I do! But I’ve also learned they’re bed clothes meant to be looked at more so than worn for comfort. And since I want to look at my husband…" she trailed off meaningfully, and Marx sighed. At the sound Hinoka reached up his chest to drag the glissenet of the negligee over a nipple, its smooth texture against a sensitive area caused him to shiver. Her mouth pursed into a moue as she insisted, “Please, Marx? I don’t mind that you enjoy my body, I’d just like a turn to oogle.”

The knowledge that this was the woman who’d taught him the intimacies of the bedroom— and that Hinoka still wanted it all, wanted him —it stirred a heat in his gut like glowing embers.

“Very well, if that’s your wish.”

Hinoka’s smile practically shone like the sun as she said, “I’ll wear something special too! And I promise to not peek and wait patiently until you’re ready.” His wife’s hand on his shoulder tugged Marx down to that Hinoka could giving him a quick kiss on her tiptoes. Then before he could do or say anything she dashed behind the changing screen and he heard the telltale rustle of fabric.

Holding in another sigh, Marx turned to the box of lingerie set out for him. He quickly divested himself of his regular daywear, after folding set them aside, and put on the articles she’d chosen for him. Despite Hinoka not even watching him dress, Marx felt self-conscious as he smoothed the smalls’ fabric over his backside then adjusted the fit of the glissenet against his groin as the fabric stretched to accommodate him. The negligee was much simpler to put on once he found the thin straps meant for his shoulders, the design of it was more hanging than clinging which he was thankful for.

Changed, he sat down on the edge of the bed and fought the urge to fidget with the foreign sensation of glissenet and lace against his otherwise bare skin. He could hear his wife still moving out of sight, and the Nohrian prince found his eyes wandering back to the box. In the pile of lingerie, no longer folded neatly as Hinoka had rifled through them, he spied other pairs of smalls but also a couple of sheer veils. He easily fished a black one edged with what appeared to be thick gilt thread and hooked its stays behind his ears. Hinoka had likely missed them, perhaps thinking they were strange smalls like the ones that were little more than ribbons. Personally, Marx had always found well-crafted veils complimentary— a pity that they were only appropriate to wear in public when winter court was in season.

"Are you prepared for the big reveal?" Hinoka asked from behind the changing screen.

Marx's brow furrowed, he'd had the box of lingerie with him this entire time. "I thought you wanted to try these on?"

"Well, I thought about it..." Hinoka's tone almost sounded smug. "And I'd much rather wear this."

His wife stepped out and Marx's breath caught in his throat— Hinoka wore one of his linen shirts. The hem fell past mid-thigh, the sleeves would’ve dangled well over her fingertips, so she’d had rolled them up. The strings that held the collar closed were loose, revealed not only the bare column of his wife’s neck but also down low past her collarbones and the skin between her breasts— Hinoka wore nothing underneath. The voluminous material almost entirely hid her upper half, yet her long legs were tantalizingly bare. His heartrate increased as his wife sauntered over and stood before him.

“I like what I see.” Hinoka teased with a pointed glance at the outline of his cock against the smallclothes, which the cut and thinness of the fabric did nothing to hide. Under her blatant appreciation Marx felt his face flush.

Still he allowed his own hungry gaze to sweep over his wife. “That look suits you.”

However rather than blushing, Hinoka just grinned and kept her arms behind her back. She approached him with a slow saunter and said, “Though if my husband feels generous there is one more piece I’d ask him to wear for me.”

Marx held back a frown and asked, “Should I feel generous?”

Hinoka hummed thoughtfully, then quipped, “Generosity is one of your better qualities.”

He scoffed out a chuckle but agreed to put on one last thing. With his permission given Hinoka moved her arms out before her, a dark stocking held in each of her hands. Marx felt his eyes widen as he noted that Hinoka must’ve had those purchased separately, as none of the stockings in their dresser would’ve fit him. He’d developed a fondness for them— or rather for slowly divesting Hinoka of them. With her tenma warrior uniform he was able to do so almost daily, and the thought she wanted something similar had him taunt as a drawn bowstring.

Marx’s blush heated further as Hinoka folded her knees neatly and then began dressing him. She guided one of his feet into the stocking, tugged it up past his knee, then over his thigh until the band at the top was snug against thick muscle. The thin material must’ve been raw silk with the smoothness of their texture against his skin. The other stocking was put on with the same pain-staking care.

"I think I see why you like these so much," Hinoka said as she sat back and just looked up at him.

Under the undivided appreciation of that amber gaze, Marx found that he was at a loss for words. His mouth felt dry, and he had to make an effort to keep his breathing even. It made him conscious how the draping fabric of the negligee echoed the rise and fall of his chest, tickling at the skin of his torso. While the veil stirred with each of his breaths, providing equal distraction. Yet he was no child to throw off uncomfortable clothing, so Marx shifted, sitting so that his hands had to hold up his weight.

Hinoka took notice, her smile widening as she suddenly stood. She leaned in until their faces nearly touched, the overlarge shirt molding to the back of her as the rest fell forward. Her bright eyes seemed to glow as she said, “One last thing I want from you, Marx. Let me look at you and touch, but don’t move your hands from that spot until I say.”

His brow furrowed. “You’re lucky I’m a generous man, Hinoka.”

She playfully stuck her tongue out at that and he would’ve nipped at the pink appendage if he hadn’t been wearing a veil.

Her hands slid over him, the glissenet and lace a thin barrier prevented skin from touching skin. The rub of the fabrics had his fingers itching to tear the irritant off, but Hinoka had asked him not to move his hands, so Marx fisted them in the bed’s covers instead. For a fleeting moment Hinoka's hand reached the edge of the lingerie where it sat low along his hips and her bare skin skimmed his— Hinoka didn't have delicate hands but they were small and slender, he enjoyed feeling the calluses on her palms. A low groan was pulled from Marx as the contact he craved so quickly disappeared.

His noise had her changing direction, abruptly reaching up. As she felt his face through the glissenet of the veil, the lightness of her touch teased. His wife had told him not to move his hands but hadn't said anything about his head. So as one of Hinoka's hands drew back he straightened his arms, so he could chase after. Marx pressed a silk-covered kiss on the skin of her inner wrist— and felt the muffled beat of her pulse against his lips. The action drew a beautiful little gasp from her, one he was eager to hear again. He nuzzled his way up her inner arm, laid kisses through the veil and wished he could taste her skin unimpeded.

He'd felt his hands slip, just a fraction, but movement was movement. He'd gotten carried away, trying to tease his wife back while still obeying her orders. So Marx tried to collect his thoughts through the fog of lust, to get a grip on himself. The way Hinoka grinned at his self-restraint didn’t help matters.

His wife leaned in close, and whispered against his mouth, "Don't hold back, Marx. Let me spoil you."

Despite the arousal pooling in his loins and burning in his blood he still felt his face heat with the idea: being spoilt. It made him swallow— then her lips brushed his, breath moist through the glissenet. Any thoughts of holding back scattered as he pressed up and turned the contact into a true kiss.

One of her hands dragged down his stomach to his groin, and his hips jerked when she firmly cupped the line of his hardening cock through the thin material. He groaned when she gently pressed the heel of her hand against him and her fingers pet feather-light over the tip straining against the fabric. Between the kiss and her teasing attentions caused his erection to swell to full length. She rubbed the soft fabric against the base of his shaft, and then without warning tugged the lacy edge of the silky smalls and slipped her hand inside. Marx spread his legs to allow her better access. Her hand teased past his shaft, stretching the smallclothes’ glissenet as she reached further in. She palmed his sac, which made his breath hitch, while her fingertips rubbed gently at his sensitive perineum beyond.

Hinoka’s touches had his entire body shivering as Marx endeavored not to buck his hips into the pleasure of her hand. She had dipped to kissing his jaw and throat, which had moans slipped past his grit teeth as his hands fisted in the covers. When his wife eased off her play, and a shudder passed through him as he fought the urge to toss her onto the bed and have his way. Forcing stillness, he again felt the state of himself: heart beating fast and his body throbbing, flushed and starting to perspire, tickled by sheer fabric and lace, veil sticking to his moist lips. He could feel a small wetness beginning to stain the fabric of his smalls.

A sharp nip and the lick to his collarbone, brought Marx back into sharp focus. His wife leaned back, sucking on her bottom lip, and looked entirely too pleased with herself. Hinoka had no hesitation just confidence, but she was just as affected as he was— how desire darkened her gaze.

Hinoka’s eyes twinkled with delight as she imperiously announced, "You can move your hands and are allowed to touch me, but don't remove this shirt."

With permission given Marx surged upon her. Both hands slid along her lovely legs, gathering her up into his lap, and then beneath the hem of the shirt. He reveled in the sensation of her warm, soft flesh. They’d coupled enough times, in the light and the dark, that he knew Hinoka's body by feel and could trace it blindly. Soon enough he reached the underside of a breast and stroked his fingertips towards the nipple until she arched into his touch and made little breathy sounds.

Although small his wife's breasts were sensitive, and their pert weight felt ample in his palm when he cupped them. When they’d first begun exploring one another she’d become shy with attention paid to her chest, but his assurances and reoccurring actions had banished such self-consciousness. Hinoka had blossomed under his care and that knowledge appealed to a base, possessive part of Marx.

He slipped one hand off her breast, down to touch the flex of her ribs. She felt so warm. He mused, perhaps warmer from the mutual desire burning between them. His fingers carefully dragged down the taunt plane of her stomach, until Hinoka's hands caught both of his. Marx allowed his wife to coax the direction of his hands onto curve of her hips and the skin there soft even with the underlying muscle. With this newfound grip he pulled her close, and he noticed the quick kick of her breathing and how only a thin ring of amber remained in her eyes.

He leaned even closer, until he felt her quick exhales through his veil. "Hinoka, that expression… don’t show anyone but me."

A delightfully red blush rose over his wife's face. Then her hands rose and removed the veil from his face, before she gave him a shy look. "You know I wouldn't. You're the only one I want to see me like this, Marx."

That thought was like a glowing coal in his gut and had Marx burning all the hotter.

Hinoka anticipated his intent and her long legs dropped open, made it easy for him to reach despite the shirt hiding where his fingers touched. He shifted and curled one arm about her hips, anchored her firm backside so she could lean back, while her arm looped about his shoulders as she shifted her weight.

“Comfortable?” He asked and smiled at the way Hinoka bit her lip as she nodded. His other arm moved so that his free hand took up her invitation.

Marx's own breaths quickened as he felt the wetness between her thighs, and Hinoka made an approving noise as his fingertips slipped across her mound and cleft. Blindly, he explored her folds, barely caressing her hard bud before drifting up to stroke her breasts and belly— until his wife muttered under her breath about teases. He kissed her again and worked slowly back down her body until his fingers found the heat of her again. He pushed two fingers into her core slowly and gently, in response she pressed tightly against him as if she wanted to melt into him.

When he thrusted his fingers, her hips almost worked as hard as his wrist. Hinoka rocked her hips, making eager, demanding little noises. But his arm about her hips prevented her from doing most of the work and riding to completion. Instead Marx found the best angle and curved his fingers inside her as he thrusted and had her panting with pleasure. She pushed her face against his neck, kissing and nipping. His thumb circled the bud of her clit, and her arms tightened around him.

“Marx, hn-” She spoke in bitten off gasps, “I’m c-close.”

Marx was so aroused by everything about her— her need, her desire, her voice, her body, the sound of her. She filled his senses, and he lost the will to care about anything else in that moment. Crossing the remaining space between them, he whispered against her parted lips, “You’re beautiful.”

Amber eyes fluttered closed as Hinoka’s back arched and his mouth caught hers. She cried out, her body shuddering as her core clenched around his drenched fingers. He kissed all through her crises, relished the way she clung to him without reserve. Finally, his wife came back to herself with a hitched breath, and said, “…good thing I didn’t have you wear gloves.”

“All this is already too much,” Marx shook his head with groan, “I want to feel you, Hinoka.”

His wife pushed herself into sitting up, and without a word undid the tied bow that kept the negligee closed. As she grabbed the straps on his shoulders he shrugged, and the article was removed with mutual effort. Marx couldn’t hold back a sigh as his over-sensitized skin was freed from the tickling fabric, yet as she shifted in his lap other discomforts caused him to bite down on a grunt.

His cock curved thick and red against the black glissenet, now painfully hard. Hinoka tugged the lacy edge of the smalls halfway down his cock, the passing brush of her fingers making him throb. He let out a broken moan when her thumb rubbed over his seed beaded on the tip.

"H-Hinoka, please." If she teased him any further, Marx was certain he'd spill himself like a green youth.

At his entreaty, she yanked the smallclothes down completely. He lifted his hips and she tugged, abandoning it to fall past his knees to his ankles. His wife straddled his hips, her knees pressing the band of the stockings into his skin. Her arms winding about his neck as she smiled at him. “Your turn, handsome.”

Finally lined up right, Marx paused because he loved this moment— the stillness and anticipation just before things got desperate. As always, Hinoka moved first and he savored how she pushed onto him and lost himself in the slick heat of her body. Despite the wetness, she felt almost too hot around him in his over-sensitive state, like he might be burned from the inside out and yet he craved this heat.

She was snug around him, hot and slick and perfect. Hinoka rocked her hips against his and moaned loudly, her body clutched tight— he couldn't hold himself together anymore. Marx came with a shout, his body going stiff as the heat of her went all through his veins, flooded his mind with the same brightness that was in her smile. Every muscle fell slack as he came down from climax and he slumped against his wife, breathing hard.

Gingerly he leaned them both back until they laid against the mattress, her weight atop him a comfort. They lay together, limbs tangled, basking in the afterglow of their love. Marx carefully ran a hand down Hinoka's legs, unable to resist, and was not surprised to feel her muscles twitching with aftershocks. He went to stroke a hand down her back, and realized she was still wearing his shirt— though the linen now stuck to her damp, flushed skin. It gave him ideas.

“Hinoka?”

“…hm?”

“I believe you’re entirely too clothed. Let me help you with that.”


End file.
